New York - Stintino
by WeepingSupergirl
Summary: Being on the run, Red takes Lizzie to one of his favourite places in the world.


Thanks to my beta reader HollyRose31523.

A/N: This story had been published before, but I made a few adjustments after the end of season 2. If you are interested in a short prequel, feel free to read Chapter 3 ("Aftermath") of my story "Life After You".

Disclaimer: I don't own The Blacklist and I hope Gregor Meyle doesn't mind that I mentioned his name and borrowed the title of his beautiful album. I believe he would've been thrilled if he had actually met Red in NY.

* * *

Liz woke up from the clanging sounds in the kitchen. She wasn't surprised she had dozed off, sitting in this big, comfortable rocking chair, which Red had put in the most beautiful spot on the porch. It was the perfect place to take a beautiful little sunbath in the evening, when the sun wasn't that intense anymore. However, Liz immediately touched her face, to see if she might have caught sunburn anyhow. Her face felt warm, but not hot. Her own touch didn't hurt, so she decided that it was alright. She enjoyed the ocean view for a little while before another clanging sound reminded her, what had interrupted her nap. She smiled the ocean goodbye and tried to get out of the rocking chair, which really wasn't easy. She wondered where - and why on earth at all - they might sell such big rocking chairs. She had to rock it back and forth until she finally managed to get a good sweep out of it. Her landing also wouldn't have made a proper B-note. When she finally managed to stand on her own two feet, she mumbled to herself about that 'damn thing' before she furrowed her brow and followed the distant pot clanging that was accompanied by music.

Through the back door she saw Red scurrying around in the kitchen. From afar it looked like he was making a pretty good mess, but getting closer she realized that it was some kind of orderly chaos. She watched him for some time. He wore one of his usual white shirts with a brown vest, but no tie. In addition to the straw hat he wore instead of his usual fedora, this seemed to be the Red-free-time-look. Apparently he was really enjoying himself. He alternately stirred two pots and added a little extra swing to every movement as he hummed along with the music. Liz couldn't help but grin a little.

"Lizzie," he said with a shining smile as he noticed her watching him, "perfect timing, dinner is almost ready."

"You cook?" she said unbelievingly. She could imagine Red in a lot of different things, but standing in front of a stove had never really been one of them.

"Lizzie, just because I _don't_ do things usually, doesn't mean I _can't_ do them!" he answered, pretending to be annoyed, but with a chuckle that just Red could do.

"Alright, alright," she said, raising her hands in capitulation.

"Come here and taste this amazing wine!" He took another glass out of the cabinet, poured a little sip of white wine and handed it to Liz.

"Aren't you making pasta?" she asked.

"I am!" Red replied.

"Wouldn't _red_ go more with pasta?" she said, chuckling herself now.

"You're quite funny, when you just woke up, Lizzie. I, myself like this Pinot Grigio a lot. But I surely will open a bottle of _red_ wine for you, if you don't like it."

Liz still couldn't help but grin while swinging the glass a little before she finally took a sip of the wine. It was cold and delicious. She closed her eyes just to concentrate on this adorable taste.

"See," Red enjoyed his moment of being right. He always did.

"I never imagined you as the pasta kind of guy," Liz held up her glass to him, casually requesting him to pour her some more wine.

"I'm probably a lot of 'kind of guys' you can't picture me as," he retorted.

Liz rolled her eyes.

"I've always loved pasta," Red went on. "Some people think it's just a basic meal, a side dish. But it's so much more. The Italians eat pasta almost every day and since we're here." He started stirring the sauce again while he absently looked out of the window where the ocean lied peacefully in the little bay.

"How did we get here anyway?" she asked, "and don't you dare say anything like 'With a plane, of course!', I mean, why here, why Sardinia of all places?"

"Because of this album cover." He cleaned his hands on a towel, put it over his shoulder and grabbed a CD case from the window sill.

"New York – Stintino?" Liz read from the distance.

"Fits, doesn't it? Since we came from New York and are now here in Stintino." He chuckled again.

This time, Liz didn't just roll her eyes but gave him an annoyed look. She grabbed the case.

"You fly out to a place because you like a CD cover? Of an artist I've never even heard of, by the way." She turned around the cover. The song titles weren't English. She believed it was German, but wasn't sure.

"Oh, he's a very talented young man. His name is Gregor Meyle, I coincidentally met him in New York when he recorded a few things for this album. I had some business to do at the sound studio. We went out to get coffee and he told me about this beautiful island, where he usually writes his songs. It sounded perfectly, if you just want to be yourself for a little while. So, I decided to take a little trip someday. And I always enjoy coming back here. I think it's just beautiful, don't you, Lizzie?"

"I do, it's gorgeous." Liz had immediately fallen in love with this place. It was quiet and peaceful – yet so full of life. People simply took their time here. She seized in that mentality the moment they arrived. It was a place where all problems weren't allowed to follow easily – as if the world just surrounded that single island and everything else simply disappeared. Red had somehow managed to get a beautiful little safe house as well. It was not too big, with two bedrooms and an open living room. Liz loved that it had a little sun sided porch with direct access to a pebble-stone beach with crystal clear water which was refreshingly cool, but not too cold for some swimming . Again, she would have never imagined Red like this: Spending a holiday on the beach, cooking pasta for them. But it was great to see him happy and even a little detached in some moments. It seemed like this place did exactly the same to him as it did to her.

Like some kind of acknowledgement he started to hum with the music while pouring himself some more wine. As he turned to look if she also needed a refill, he noticed her smiling at him. He provocatively looked at her.

"Care for a dance, Lizzie?" Without waiting for her answer, he put down bottle and glass and walked towards her, holding out his hand.

"Wasn't your pasta almost ready?" Liz asked.

"It needs two more minutes. Come on, Lizzie, dance with me!"

"Oh - why the hell not," she answered, putting down her glass as well and took his hand. His touch gave her the same comforting feeling as always. She put her left arm around his shoulder and felt his around her lower back, gently pulling her nearer to him. She closed her eyes as he started to move them both to the music. He continued humming along with it. His deep voice was soft and somehow soothing.

"What's he singing about?" she asked, before sadly realizing that he had to stop his humming to answer her.

"He sings about that the best is yet to come," he replied.

"Do you believe so?" Liz asked quietly.

"Of course I do," he said and smiled, before giving her a little push to swirl her around. He chuckled his Red-chuckle and she couldn't help but do the same. His mood was highly contagious. As she looked back in his direction he held her gaze for a moment before pulling her back to him. She enjoyed being with him. It had been a long time since she had allowed herself to be close to someone, so she seized in this moment where she was somehow able to do so. There was this safe feeling she had being with Red, the only person she trusted, in a way she didn't even understand.

"I believe I have to look at the sauce now." He disturbed her thoughts. "Thanks for the dance, Lizzie." He kissed the back of her hand before letting her go.

"I'll get the plates." Liz went to the cupboard to fetch two plates with a beautiful olive tree pattern. She watched Red drain the pasta and fill up the sauce into it. He mixed both with some skillful swirls before he dropped some on each plate. As a finish he put some basil leaves and fresh parmesan cheese on top.

"Voila!" he said, grabbed the two plates and walked towards the dinner table, where a candle was already lit. Taking their glasses, Liz followed the delicious scent. They sat down and Red put the kitchen towel, which was still resting over his shoulder, on the side of the table. He reached for his glass of wine and raised it.

"Here's to you, Lizzie!" he said with a little sparkle in his eyes.

"Here's to _you_ , Red," Liz replied. "And thanks for making me dinner. It smells delicious."

"Hear, hear!" he said and took a sip of the wine.

Liz did the same, although hers was a little bigger.

"Thanks for spending this time here with me," Red added. "It means a lot to me being here with you."

She met his gaze over the table.

"Now eat up before it gets cold!" He didn't have to tell her twice. The mouth-watering scent and the few sips of wine had already made Liz' stomach roar. She stirred some spaghetti on her fork and found that the scent stood to its promise: the taste of it was even more delicious. She had to admit, Red really was a good cook.

They ate and talked and left the rest of the world towards itself. Liz enjoyed listening to Red. He was a true storyteller and the stories he could tell were endless. He had been traveling a lot - not in the usual way of course - but nevertheless he had basically seen the whole world and met all different kinds of people. He was still able to describe every place and everyone he met so colorfully that Liz could imagine everything as if she had been there with him. She was amazed by the fact that after all he's been through he somehow managed to find little moments to enjoy – for she was sure that for every laugh Raymond Reddington had had in his life, there had also been at least one dark moment.

After a while he bogged up in one of his most favorite topics, as Liz found out: Wine. Red loved wine and wherever he had been, he had also taken the opportunity to enjoy every local wine he could find. He knew everything about grape variety, the harvesting and the wine pressing procedure. He had even visited a small island called Lanzarote because someone told him that they grew their vines in volcano ground. And _'of course, he had to see that'_. She listened to Red going on and on about it and sometimes she caught herself just concentrating on this smooth and silky voice of his.

After they both had finished their dinner, Red lay down his cutlery, sat back in his chair and looked out to the ocean again.

"It's so beautiful here - the ocean, the beach, this house… you!" He smiled a little cheekily as his gaze wandered to Liz from the corner of his eyes.

"Stop it, Red. You've had too much wine." Liz grabbed the kitchen towel and threw it towards him, and Red caught it laughing out loud. Deep down inside Liz assumed that he perfectly meant what he said and had a tickling feeling about the words she just heard.

"I'm absolutely fine, Lizzie," he replied. "Come on, let's go outside for a little while. The sun will go down soon and the porch will be the perfect spot to enjoy the beautiful colors it paints over the sea."

"That's a pretty good idea. Shall we clean this up first?" Liz asked superfluously while she was already picking up their dishes.

"No, let me – " Red tried to stop her, but she wouldn't let him .

"You did the cooking, the least I can do is to put this stuff into the dishwasher."

He gave in and followed her. Arms crossed, he leaned against the counter. Liz felt his gaze tracking her around in the kitchen. They exchanged a few glances while she cleaned up.

"Thank you, dear." Red's voice was nearly a whisper.

He came across towards her and incidentally put his hand on her waist to place a little kiss on her cheek. The soft touch of his lips on her face immediately caused her heart to beat a little faster.

"Come Lizzie," he said, grabbing a blanket from the couch and held his hand towards her. She didn't hesitate to take it since she had much enjoyed holding it while they were dancing. They walked out on the porch and headed to the rocking chair. Right in front of it, Red took a moment to look at the sun setting over the ocean.

"Now look at that!" he said, more to himself than to Liz. "It's so peaceful and yet so thrilling, isn't it? It looks like the sky is burning up. Marvelous!"

He absent mindedly let go of her hand and put his arm around her, smoothly, like a habit. She put her arm around him as well for she wanted to move closer into his embrace.

They just stood there, watching the sunset.

The salty air, the soft noise from the waves of the ocean - it was that moment exactly when she realized how lonely she had been. All the time, even when she had been with Tom, she had always been a self-contained person, who had no problems being alone. She was never one for 24/7 relationships, she really enjoyed being alone from time to time. She somehow actually needed it. But right now, in this moment of comfort in Red's arms, she suddenly felt everything surging up from deep inside her. The freezing cold that had lived inside her, ever since she had learned the truth about her former husband, started to heat up. Like the colors of the sky, the blue feelings dissolved into cozy red ones. Liz began to heal – right in that moment in which she realized how deeply broken she really was.

He must have felt her sinking into his embrace.

"Are you okay, Lizzie?" he asked.

"Starting to be, I guess." Liz looked up to meet his gaze. His eyes told a story about hurt and loneliness, too. The dark moments she saw in them didn't have to crawl up inside him. They were always present, in every moment, even in good moods as he had presented today. From the sorrow that was written on his face, he must've noticed the tears that were filling up her eyes now, from feelings she could neither describe nor understand just yet.

Instinctively she put her hand on Red's cheek, caressing it with her thumb while she softly kissed him for a few moments, before she pulled away and met his gaze again. He smiled a little, as he seemed to hide his own longing to touch her by pulling a small strand of hair behind her ear. Liz shivered a little, but she wasn't sure if it was Red's touch or the breeze that felt slightly cooler than before. The sun which had provided the warmth was just about to sink into the water.

"You're cold." Red said and guided her to the rocking chair.

Not really sure what his intentions were, Liz furrowed her eyebrow and just looked at him.

"What is it Lizzie, you seemed to like this Rocking-Two before, didn't you?"

"Rocking-Two?" she asked, confused.

"That's what I like to call it. It's a rocking chair for two."

"That explains a lot." Liz chuckled.

"Do I want to know?" he asked while sitting down in the chair.

"Nah, I don't think so," Liz replied as she settled next to him. She pulled her legs up to the chair and cuddled herself into Red's arms again.

He put the blanket around her and even allowed himself a small end of it, attentively seeing that Liz was fully covered by the mellow cloth.

She closed her eyes. She didn't need to see the rest of the sunset anymore, when the real beauty was the feeling she had right now. Liz exhaled like she never did before and simply let go. She allowed herself to be in the care of this man - hoping that she could give him the same comfort that he gave her. In a world where she thought she had nothing left, she had found this pair of arms that made her feel safe and kept her together, when she was actually falling to pieces. She could finally turn off that grinding engine in her head. With

"Red?"

"Yes, Lizzie?" He tightened his arms around her.

"Will you make me breakfast in the morning, too?" Liz felt it more than she heard that he was chuckling again.

"Of course, dear."


End file.
